


The Hulk Wears Purple Pants

by QueSeraAwesome



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Barely there background grimmons and tuckington if you squint, Crack, M/M, O'Malley!Doc, Pre-Season 12 spec, just crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-25
Updated: 2014-04-25
Packaged: 2018-01-20 16:58:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1518254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueSeraAwesome/pseuds/QueSeraAwesome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone remembers Caboose’s little O’Malley trick. But what everyone seems to forget, is that Doc carried Omega for a lot longer than Caboose did. Everyone always seems to forget Doc.</p><p>Or alternatively: Doc rescues his dumb boyfriend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hulk Wears Purple Pants

“See what you do, is you throw it, and it makes shit go away. And then you throw it again and it makes it come back,” Grif explains.

“That seems complicated,” one of his squaddies says, looking warily at the Future Cubes recovered from the canyon after the battle was over.

“No, it’s easy, if it were hard would I be doing it?” Grif asks.His squaddies all shake their heads no. “There, see. Now, watch—“

There’s a flash of light, and then the collapsed body in purple armor appears. Several members of his squad raise their rifles.

“Holy shit,” Simmons says, walking up. “Is that Doc?”

*

“Wow, I was really dehydrated,” Doc laughs.

He’s reclined on a hospital bunk in medical with an IV in his arm, and someone had located him about a dozen falafel.

“What was it like in there, Doc?” Simmons asks. “Do you think it’s like being inside a black hole? Did you go back in time?”

“You are such a fucking nerd,” says Grif.

“Grif! He’s been to an alternate dimension! This could be important scientific information!”

“I don’t really remember, actually” Doc says, chewing thoughtfully. “I just remember everything going dark.”

“That happens to me a lot,” Caboose says. “I hope it is not catching.”

“That’s because your helmet was broke, jackass. For the last time you’re not going intermittently blind.”

“You don’t remember any of it?” Simmons asks, dismayed.

“No, not at all,” Doc says. “I don’t think those things are built to transport people. It must have taken you guys forever to figure out how to get me out!”

“Yeah,” Simmons says, a tad guiltily.

“Why don’t you rest, Doc?” Grif suggests. “We’ll explain everything later.”

“Okay,” Doc says, taking another bit of his falafel.

*

Lady Bones lets him out of medical the next day, with a large water bottle strapped to his hand and a package of vitamin supplements. So Doc decides to do a little exploring.The New Republic camp is a little shoddy, a little rough around the edges, but the energy is infectious. And it seems to mostly be coming from its new captains.

“Wow, you guys have been working really hard,” Doc says, walking up to Grif and Simmons where their squads are running drills together. “And you’re captains! It just goes to show that with a little perseverance, some motivation, and a little bit of elbow grease, you can accomplish anything! Do you think they’d let me put up my motivational posters in the rec room?”

“Yeah, I’m sure Kimball’ll really go for that,” Grif says, glancing lazily at his troops. “Don’t half-ass those jumping jacks, guys!”

“’Cause that’s your job, right?” one of his squaddies yells back.

“Damn right! And you could never half-ass anything as great as me! That job’s taken!” Grif yells back.

Doc looks around nervously at the insubordination, but everyone seems to be smiling and laughing. A couple of Simmon’s girls even make a few catcalls. It’s not exactly military regulation, but Doc’s not sure that really should be expected from them, and it seems to be working.

“You and Simmons work well together, Grif,” he comments.

“Yeah,” Grif says, watching Simmons make the rounds around the lines of soldiers. “It helps him to not have to talk to _all_ girls all the time, and this way I don’t have to really deal with physical drills. I can stick to the important stuff, like the commissionary’s latest shipment of snickerdoodles.”

“That sure does sound like it keeps you busy,” Doc says. Grif shrugs. “Donut must be plenty busy too—I haven’t even seen him yet! Did he get a captaincy too?”

“Uh….not exactly.”

“Yeah, that might not be his style. Have you guys thought about starting a community garden? A sustainable food supply sounds like just the thing this rebel army needs!”

“Pack it in, guys!” Grif yells, “We’re done for the day. Simmons, get over here, wouldja?”

He gets plenty of odd looks for the out-of-the-blue dismissal, but they follow orders. Simmons cocks his head at Grif questioningly and jogs over.

“What’s up?” Simmons asks.

“Doc wants to know where Donut is,” Grif says.

“What? Didn’t anyone tell him?”

“Apparently not.”

“Tell me what, guys?” Doc says, a trickle of worry starting to form.

“Look, Doc, maybe you oughta sit. We gotta tell you something,” Grif says.

“C’mon, guys, quit kidding around,” he says. “Where’s Donut?”

“He’s not here, Doc,” Simmons says gently.

“He got captured.”

“What?”

“When Locus attacked, there wasn’t any time. And then there was a cave in…by the time we could get through again, they were already gone.”

“Gone?” Doc repeats, the first pang of fear blooming in his chest. “What do you mean _gone_?”

“They got captured by the Federal Army and Locus,” Simmons says. “All our intel says they’re still alive, we just don’t have enough resources to start a rescue mission yet. I’m sorry, Doc. There wasn’t anything we could do.”

“Nothing you could do?” Doc yells. “How about not leaving your friends behind? How do you even do that?”

“Hey, you weren’t there,” Grif snaps, taking a protective step in front of Simmons. “Donut’s not the only one we lost. As soon as we’re ready we’re gonna make an assault on the Fed base and get them back!”

“I can’t believe you guys. How many times is it you’ve left him behind? I thought you guys were supposed to be friends!”

“We are friends!” Simmons argues. “A lot of people got left behind, we didn’t have a choice—“

“No! You guys make jokes and make fun of him all the time, and you don’t care about him! To you, he’s just a campy little annoying dude with a good arm, but he’s more than that to me! You guys leave him behind at the earliest opportunity! We didn’t even have to come rescue you, we were _happy_! We were gonna grow cucumbers this Spring and upgrade the solar power!”

“What the hell is going on over here?” Tucker asks, jogging up. “You’re upsetting the squaddies!”

“Doc just found out about Donut,” Simmons explains.

“Ooo fuckberries. No one told him until now?”

“Doc, calm down,” Grif says. “We’ll get your boyfriend back. We’re getting Tucker’s boyfriend back too—“

“He’s not my boyfriend!” Tucker yells.

“Oh, please, you act like—“

“ _Shut up_! All of you _shut up_!” Doc screams. “You piss me, off, all of you! With your sarcasm and your negativity! I hate it!”

“Whoa. Dude, maybe you should—“

“No!” Doc screams. “I don’t have to do anything! All you fuckers do is just call me in when one of you is bleeding to death and needs medical attention, and then complain about how I do it! And then you laugh at me! Just like you always laugh at him! And then you fucking leave him again!”

“Oh my god, did Doc just swear?”

“Doc, look,” Tucker tries, taking off his helmet. “I get it, I do. Just—“

“I don’t remember the last time I got this angry,” Doc says, clutching at his helmet. “I don’t, I can’t—“

He lets out an animal noise of anger, curling in on himself. Then Doc goes still.

“Oh shit, did he have an aneurism?” Simmons gasps. “Did we break him?”

The trio exchange uneasy glances and then collectively realize they’re standing in a public thoroughfare. They look around. Every eye in the training field is on them and Doc’s meltdown. Grif nervously waves them away.

“Listen, Doc,” Grif says. “You gotta—“

“ _ **I’m not listening to you anymore,**_ ” Doc says in a voice that isn’t his own. It’s deeper. It sounds almost like—

“Hello,” Caboose says. The soldier who had fetched him pushes him toward the group and flees back into the various passerby. “Someone told me that I should be here so here I am.”

Doc stomps away, the air crackling around him.

“Holy shit,” says Tucker. “Was that his Omega voice?”

“Do you think he can do the thing?” Grif asks. “The Omega O’Malley thing? Like Caboose can do?”

“He did have O’Malley for a long time,” Tucker says.

“We’ve got a bigger problem,” Simmons says. “Where’d he go?”

They stare at each other in horror.

“Oh shit.”

*

They fan out throughout the base, searching for a homicidal rage-monster-ghosting rogue medic. Whatever squaddies they can find along the way are recruited to the search with strict orders not to engage if they find him.

In the end, it’s Simmons who catches sight of him just as he’s left the base’s gates.

“Doc, where are you going?!” Simmons yells.

Doc freezes, like a predator catching the scent of his prey. He looks over his shoulder and Simmons feels a chill go down his back.

_**“Fed Base. Break everything. Get the man back.”** _

“You’re going after him yourself?” Simmons screams.

"That’s a suicide mission, medic!” Kimball yells, catching up to the captain.

_**“Only if they fight back.”** _

And then he’s gone.

“Shit.”

“Hey, Simmons, did you find him?” Tucker yells, running up Lady Bones in tow.

“Yeah, but he’s gone,” Simmons says.

“Where to?” Grif asks, walking up, sounding winded. Caboose trails him.

“He’s gone to the Fed base! He says he’s going to try and get Donut back!”

“What, by himself?” Tucker asks. “Without any back up?”

“Apparently.”

Grif sees the longing, calculating look Tucker shoots the path out of base.

“Dude, no,” he says quietly.

Tucker shakes his head, as if to clear it.

“Well, that’s not the first place he went,” he says, nudging Lady Bones.

“He came in and demanded medical supplies,” Lady Bones says, looking a little flustered. “You guys said he was a medic, and from the tone of his voice it seemed like an emergency, so I gave him what he said he needed.”

“What could he have possibly have wanted?” Tucker asks.

They look out in the direction that Doc left in.

“Somebody’s going to die today,” says Grif.

“Well, I hope it isn’t him,” Kimball says. “For his sake, at least.”

Grif, Simmons and Tucker exchange glances. They look over at Caboose, who is humming happily and trying to follow the trail of a passing fly with a finger.

“I think we’ve seen this before,” Simmons says. “And if we’re right? I wouldn’t put any bets in favor of the other guys.”

*

“Sir, we’ve got incoming,” Private Jones says, peering into the distance.

“Coming from the direction we think the New Republic’s got a base in.”

“What is it?” Captain Ahab asks.

“It looks like just one guy,” Jones says.

“Purple. Isn’t Purple medical?”

“Is he armed?”

“Maybe?” Jones says, squinting through the scope.

He suddenly seems a lot closer than he was last time he looked. Wow, he’s really booking it. Something glints in the sunlight.

“I think he’s…is that a bandolier filled with hypodermic needles?”

“What?” the Captain asks.

“That’s ridiculous.”

“That’s what it looks like, sir,” he says, turning to his officer.

He sees something flick out of the corner of his eye.

“What was—“

The flashbang goes off. Ten seconds later all that he can hear, what he _can_ hear that is, is screaming.

*

Radio Operator Steve sees his display light up with a transmission from the sentry team and flips the switch.

“This is Fed Radio 1, I read you Sentry East,” He recites, bored.

The response is nothing but static.

“Transmit again, Sentry East, I think something’s wrong with the equipment.”

The line opens again and he can hear people screaming, things crashing.

“ _Krshfkt—what was that thing_?” someone shouts. “ _Some kind of Hrkkkksh devil?_ ”

For a moment there’s more static. And then a voice—

“ _Command, come in, Command! You’ve got in—_ “

**_Boom._ **

The radio operator turns to look at the gate. _**Boom.**_ It’s like something’s trying to break it down.

“ _—love of god whyyyyy,_ ” the radio squalls, and it occurs to Steve that he should probably hit the alarm.

**_Boom._ **

The gate falls open, revealing a purple-armored figure standing in the entryway to the base, one leg raised like he fucking kicked the gate open. Every soldier walking through the central quad turns to stare.

 

**_“You have no idea how much karma you are in for.”_ **

 

They shoot at him. Of course they shoot at him. They’re not imbeciles. It doesn’t do them any good. The purple guy rips through them like tissue paper, arms ripping needles from his stash and stabbing them whenever they get close enough to reach. Who knows what’s in them, but the guys who get hit don’t stay upright long. Before long, half the soldiers are retreating to more defensible positions, and the commotion has attracted the commander.

“Foolish,” Locus growls, stepping up to face the invader. “Surrender now and I’ll—“

Doc kicks him in the face. Locus flies across the quad and hits a building, the metal of the bunker denting around him. Holy shit, is he actually stuck in the w—

Doc grabs one of the Fed soldiers before they can escape.

**_”Where’s Donut.”_ **

“Where’s what?” The Fed soldier whimpers. “Donuts? I don’t know—“

“ _ **The pink one**_.” Doc snarls. “ _ **Tell me where the pink captive is.**_ ”

“Bunker B52!” the soldier screeches. “B52, please don’t hurt me—“

“ _ **Where.**_ ”

He points and Doc stomps off. No one tries to engage him again. Locus struggles feebly. He might be yelling at them to engage, but it looks like his speakers are broke and they can’t really hear him. Can’t obey an order you can’t hear (they’ll swear later they couldn’t make it out).

Doc disappears into Bunker B52 and comes back out with a unconscious Donut carried in his arms.

“ _ **Don’t come after us,**_ ” he growls, before stealing a Warthog, Donut placed carefully in the passenger seat, and driving the fuck away.

The remaining conscious federal soldiers watch him go from behind cover. After the Warthog is a speck in the distance, they turn to look at Locus.

“Don’t just stand there,” he grunts. “Get me out of here.”

*

“I didn’t kill anyone,” Doc says. “I’m a pacifist.”

“Dude, you totally Hulked out!” Tucker says. “You gotta do that again. We can finish this war by the end of the week!”

“I don’t know if I can,” Doc says, apologetically. “It seems to need a really strong stimulus.”

Doc smiles over at Donut who smiles back. This time he’s the one in the medical bunk, an IV in his arm, but his hand is in Doc’s, their fingers entwined and not coming apart soon.

“A strong stimulus? Like an angry button?” Simmons asks.

“I love buttons!” Caboose yells. “Doctor Doc, we can find our angry buttons together! Yes!”

“You’re telling me you took apart a whole Fed base, and you didn’t kill anyone?” Kimball asks.

“Well, not on purpose,” Doc says. “You know what happens when air gets into a hypodermic needle. And I wasn’t really paying attention for a while there. Also, I think I stabbed a couple of them in the neck, which might lead to, um, side effects. If I missed.”

“My hero,” Donus sighs happily.

**Author's Note:**

> I got a tumblr! QueSeraAwesome.tumblr.com . I post stupid stuff on there too.


End file.
